


Arm's Reach

by LionThot



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, F/F, Gen, Outer Space, POV Lesbian Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 01:30:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LionThot/pseuds/LionThot
Summary: A day in the life of Eva Glenn, a former astronaut turned Vast avatar with a particular distaste for loneliness.





	Arm's Reach

"Can I borrow a cigarette?"

Eva looked up at the stranger next to her at the bus stop and after a moment's consideration, obliged him. He pulled out a lighter of his own from a pocket of his jacket, wrinkled and worn. For the longest while, neither of them spoke, their breath suspended in the sweet chill of the October air. The quiet exhalation of the stranger soothed that part of her mind that buzzed at the thought of being alone— at least, as alone as she could be on a clear night like this. Eva couldn't help but smile, looking over the constellations above, her eyes as soft as if she were recalling a former lover. Maybe this is what caused the stranger to finally speak up, or perhaps he just wanted to combat his own loneliness.

"Who was he?"

"Not he, she— well, it."

Eva took a drag of her own cigarette before continuing.

"She's the heavens, the stars, planets, galaxies, things we will never know and who have no concept of us, and never will. They were a lot prettier from out there."

"Out there?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow. She looked back at him with a distant smile, and after his heart had beaten a fair few too many times, the stranger realized that he would not receive an answer. She hung her head, and they sat in silence a moment longer before Eva began talking again.

"They didn't let me smoke, you know," she said, looking up towards the stranger.

"It was almost enough that my mother did, but since I didn't, it was all okay."

"They didn't let you smoke?" The words felt oddly soulless coming out of his mouth and teeth, and the man couldn't help but feel that it was though the woman before him had temporarily lost herself and, now that she had orbited back to being there in the moment, had begun a completely new conversation— albeit one where he only played the role of listener.

"I mean, I don't care now, that's all done with. It's odd to start, this late in life? But it feels like a way to keep her with me, even though she's gone now."

He started to respond, to offer his condolences, but he realized that the sad, strange woman had once again become lost in her own thoughts, this time her glossy eyes reflecting those stars above. He idly looked over the patches on her bomber jacket as he waited for her to come around: a patch on her arm that looked vaguely militaristic, on her left breast something from one of those private space companies, and on her right a name, Glenn. There was one more patch on her arm, though, a circle that was completely black but for an unsettlingly wide chevron, pointing downwards. Looking at the patch made his stomach flutter, just a bit, as if the black held much more depth than should be possible. He couldn't not stare, and it wasn't until she was halfway through her sentence that he realized the woman was talking.

"...the patch, huh? Yeah, I guess it's about that time. Do you mind telling me your name? I like to know these things," she said, extinguishing her cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

The man stumbled over his words as if waking from a deep sleep. "Oh, uh, my name's Cory. Cory Reeves." He sheepishly extended a hand, but hers never left her pockets.

Eva's smile held more than a little guilt— she didn't care for this part. "I'm glad I met you, Cory Reeves." Feeling the power of her words, the familiar tingling coming deep from within, she spoke: "Have fun Out There."

Even as she walked away, Eva felt the sky grow larger. The horizon receded into itself, as though the very world beneath her were shrinking. She exhaled for the last time, and then let herself fall backwards into the night.  
Now, she was home, immersed in an endless universe so filled with beauty and wonder, yet so far apart that to even think that she might ever touch it would be sacrilege. She couldn't breathe in, but she didn't need to, and that familiar nonweight of emptied lungs reminded her of cold days, buried beneath heavy blankets so thick that even her mother's god couldn't find her to punish her for simply being. Now, Eva was free from any such shackles— any burden she beared, she did so because it was her choice and for no other reason. Now, once again she drifted through the heavens and though no such sound could exist, the music of the unsung eons rang through her mind once more. Her lips formed words, though she could not speak. Very softly, as though to they were to be placed on a woman's lips, she didn't even whisper

"Hey love, I've missed you so much. I hope you enjoy him."

She didn't kiss Nothing, and all too soon Eva was back on her feet, once again all alone. She tenderly stroked the patch on her shoulder, the design that Simon suggested she wear. She wasn't much for holy symbols, or faith in general, but Eva thought it looked nice enough. It suited her. Whether it was a symbol for a god, or a reminder of her lover, it didn't matter. None of it did. She put in some earbuds, and began to play any kind of music that might steel herself against a lonely walk home.

\----

Eva was careful not to make any noise as she stepped into their flat, closing the door gingerly behind her so as not to wake her up. As she began unlacing her boots to place them on the rack, however, she felt soft hands slide around her from behind.

"You're— you're back, right?" Mary asked, the concern in her eyes suggesting that she didn't dare to hope. In response, Eva turned and stood, loosely wrapped her arms around her wife, and kissed her like she hadn't in weeks.

"Yeah," she said, looking into the arms of her beloved. "I'm back. And I'm not leaving again until I have to."

Mary pulled her into a hug, burying her face in the taller woman's shoulder, simply savoring the smell of her wife's hair, the taste of her skin. Eva felt a twinge of guilt as she felt a tear roll off of Mary's cheek. How could she have put off feeding for so long, when starving herself hurt them both so much?

Mary pulled back and wiped away her tears. "Promise me you won't let it get that bad again?"

"Love—"

"I don't care. Hundreds of thousands of people have been killed in God's name before, if it keeps you from... losing yourself to feed it, then what's wrong with a couple of dozen more? Especially if you love it- _her_ like you say you do?"

Eva rested her forehead against her wife's, such that they could all but taste one another's breath. "I promise. I swear it'll never get that bad again. But I'm not giving myself up to her, not completely. I couldn't lose that last scrap of humanity. I couldn't lose you."

They kissed again, and each felt as though there was nothing else in the universe but the other.

Mary was the first to break the silence afterwards. "I've eaten already, but if you need anything..."

"I'm actually quite full, love, but if you're still up, maybe we could watch a movie or something?"

"That sounds wonderful, hon."

And so they cuddled together underneath a blanket on the couch. Wrapped in one another's embrace, they couldn't help but smile: Eva, secure in her anchor, and the responsibilities she chose, and Mary certain that no god could love her wife as she could, nor could any joy she felt in those vast reaches of space ever come close to that found in the simple reality of their quiet London flat.


End file.
